I came to church in search of sisters, although I didn’t know it then.
Having grown up with family but not in the church, I was often jealous, in my early saved days, of people whose homes were, and always had been, Christian. Not only were they blood relatives but spiritual ones.
I yearned for connection. I loved my biological family. But I needed a spiritual one as well.
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We were four peas in a pod, my best friends in high school. We met in a gym class our freshman year, and in the years that followed we were inseparable. We watched Disney movies at sleepovers while our classmates partied on the weekends. We ate lunch together and welcomed the outcasts to our table. We arranged our schedules so we would share some classes throughout the day. We passed notes in the hallway and defended each other.
It was my first experience with sisterhood.
Read the rest on Preston Yancey’s blog here, part of a series, What Women Want from the Church, posting on Thursdays.